


I Know (Rewrite)

by ToWhomItMayConcern



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Language, More angst than the smut i'm sorry peeps, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27808276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToWhomItMayConcern/pseuds/ToWhomItMayConcern
Summary: The end was always inevitable.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Fem!Reader, Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Kudos: 35





	I Know (Rewrite)

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to rewrite my old Javi fics since I failed as a writer with his character and the translations, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Tumblr: @mcfreakin-bxtch

Javier Peña is a walking contradiction sometimes. 

Like now, with the way he fucks you. Rough and yet gentle, crude words as he pounds into you followed by a soft praise. 

“Fuck look at your pussy, taking my cock like a _good_ girl.”

You respond to it like you do every time, even when you know that this will be it; you knew it the moment he walked through that door, giving you one look before clashing his lips to yours. 

“ _Javi_ ,” you gasp through another powerful thrust. “ _Javi_.”

Javier grips your hips tighter and maneuvers you closer to his hips, panting just as you are; a sheen of sweat covers his chest and his hair is tousled from your fingers, pouty lips pulled back in a snarl, he is one of the most beautiful thing you have ever seen in this world. 

Which makes this so much harder. So fucking hard. Tears start to sting at the back of your throat but you swallow them down; you will not ruin this. 

“Hey,” Javier slows his thrust to a languid stop, keeping himself deep inside your weeping pussy. 

The scrunched lines on his forehead tell you he’s worried—funny, because he knows _exactly_ what he’s doing. So, what is he exactly worried about? 

You finally think it’s hitting him. What he’s doing. Coming to terms with the decisions he’s made. Sees right through your façade and realizes just how hurt you are; it’s more than that, much more and if that doesn’t tear him apart too then what was the point of any of this? 

It’s not just the sex you’re talking about, either. That’s always a given with the infamous DEA agent Javier Peña and you knew that from the start. It’s how he checks in on you throughout the day, making sure that the dangers that plague _him_ aren’t passed on to you, going farther by making sure your doors and windows are always locked and secured, giving your door handle a jiggle after he leaves and locks it. How one time, when you got sick and tried taking an extra shift at your job, he fought to keep you in bed so you could rest. Or when he would just _sit_ with you in your tiny apartment; comfortable silence, small talk here and there, shoulders brushing against each other in a nervous, unspoken dance. 

It’s all the things that make up the definition of _love_. A sensitive topic for someone like him, so afraid of letting anyone see his true colors, all the love he has stored in him—when he shows even the slightest of it, he runs. You knew that from the beginning, too. 

“Let me ride you,” you whimper. 

He nods and leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. It’s not enough for you, so you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him back; he lets his body slant perfectly atop yours, cupping your jaw with one hand while steadying your trembling thigh with the other, allowing your tongue to trace gently around the seam of his slightly chapped lips and opening his mouth to your eager tongue. 

_This may be the last time you’ll ever get to taste him_. 

The thought makes you whimper, but he takes that as a sound of pleasure and grinds his stiff, thick cock into you, breaking the kiss to let out a low groan. The curls of his pubic hair scrapes against your clit, making your pussy jolt with the much needed attention. 

“I got you,” he assures in a soft coo. 

You wish that were true for more than this night. 

“I got you,” he repeats as he carefully turns the two of you over so he’s lying on his back, keeping your hips connected. 

_For now_. 

Looking at him from this angle makes the ache in your chest pulse wildly. Those dark chocolate eyes of his peering up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing yourself, a goddess in the making, the light in his darkness—this is going to _destroy_ you. 

“Please,” he begs in a whisper. “ _Baby_. Please?”

He knows. 

Placing your hands on his hairless chest for balance, you lift your hips as far up as they can go until his slick red tip hovers just below your puffy folds, and slide back down _hard_. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses through his teeth, throwing his head back. 

He keeps his fingers on your hips, digging blunt nails deeper into your flesh with every harsh thrust you give him; he isn’t hitting your g-spot and the drag of his cock against your velvety walls is only enough to teeter you on the edge of an orgasm he’s chasing, but that doesn’t matter to you right now. 

What matters is the mewls he lets escape through closed lips, a rumble in his throat that vibrates through you. The intimacy in how close you’re pressed against each other, not an inch of you untouched or unmarked from his hands, or mouth; they’ll be reminders in the coming days. 

Then suddenly, as if he was reading your thoughts, he sits up and wraps his arm around your lower back to keep you close, thrusting up into you as you go down, finally hitting that soft spot inside you that curls your toes.

“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes against your mouth. “Always so _wet_ for me, so good to me _mgh_ —” He chokes when you move faster, tugging on the small strands of hair on the nape of his neck. “ _Shit_ , princess.”

Javi attaches his mouth to your breast, latching on to your perk nipple and hollows his cheeks; his mustaches scratches your skin and you want to take back any time you ever complained about it. You whine and hold him to your chest, angling your legs to stretch out; the action brings him _deeper_ inside you, bumping against your cervix so hard that there’s definitely tears now. 

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, feeling your whole body shiver along with your cunt. 

He lets go of your breast with a _pop_. “Close?” He moans. 

You nod. He pulls you down with him, holding the back of your head so that you’re angled with his face—sharing the same breath, noses brushing against each other, tongues flicking out for another quick taste of the other. 

The claps of skin against skin echo louder in your bedroom, along with the obscene squelches of his cock slamming into your pussy. The bedframe slams against the wall with every push and pull, and you know that in the morning you’re going to hear it from your very pissed off neighbors; you’ll tell them they won’t have to deal with it anymore. 

Javi plants his feet on the bed and starts drilling into you, holding you down so that you have no choice but to take what he gives you. Pointless babbles fill the air, begging for _more_ , give me _more_ than this, more _of_ this. 

“Fuck!” You cry out, feeling your pussy spasm around him. “O-o fuck keep going, baby don’t stop.” 

Your moans spur him on. “I won’t. Gonna cum deep inside this gorgeous pussy, f-fill you up so that you’re dripping for me.”

Your pussy clenches at the words, earning a strangled gasp as you feel his cock throb. You bury your face in his neck, nipping and sucking at all the spots you know turns him to mush. 

“Princess I’m gonna—” _Clapclapclapclapclap_. “T-touch yourself, let me feel you soak my cock.”

Your eyes squeeze tightly shut and you follow his order, bringing your hand down between your desperate bodies to circle your aching clit. 

“Javi,” you preen in his ear. “I’m—”

The rest of your sentence gets stuck in your throat. The coil in your lower stomach is too much to keep a hold of, eliciting a blazing tightness in your core that just snaps under the pressure of his onslaught but you want this to last, fuck you don’t wanna cum now but he’s—shit you can’t breathe, you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t feel _anything_ other than the warmth radiating off him and the clenching of your cunt—

“ _Yes_ ,” Javier gasps. “That’s it, that’s it baby, just like that.”

Your moans get louder and louder until they turn into screams, and you can no longer hold back and your pussy explodes around him, gushing him in your juices. 

“Fuuuuck,” a growl resonates deeply from his chest and hot ropes of cum spurt into you after, and yet he _still_ moves inside you, pushing through the persistent fluttering and the combined fluids of your releases until the sensitivity gets to the both of you. 

Your moans mix together into a chorus, dying down with the pace of your thrusts, drawing every bit of your orgasms out as you can. You collapse on his chest, panting heavily; his chest moves quickly, heart beating rapidly and steadily under your ear. He continues to hold your head, lightly scratching your scalp and rubbing your back—if you didn’t know any better, it’d feel like he was staying. 

Your eyes start to droop under exhaustion that seeps from more than the physical workout of the night. His fingers slow and curl until they gently rest, holding you—the way he does is comforting, and _real_. 

_This_. This is what you’re going to keep precious. This is how you’ll choose to remember him after all that anger subsides. The real Javier Peña you know and love.

A few moments and he sighs and pats your hip. You flinch as you lift your hips off him, his cum leaking out of you, some even dripping onto his soft, glistening cock; you ignore it. 

You pull the sheet over your naked body as you watch him quickly pull his pants up, forgoing boxers. He reaches across from you where his cigarettes rest on your nightstand, not looking you in the eyes and turning his back to you once he straightens. You expected it, but it doesn’t ease the sting. 

The muscles of his back curls _deliciously_ as he curls his hand around the cigarette. The orange gleam of the burning stick glows as he sucks the smoke in, inhaling deeply before exhaling away from you. The smoke curls around his head, slowly disappearing just like he will. You can’t take this anymore. 

“Javi,” you finally sit up, struggling to keep your voice from cracking. 

“I know,” he interrupts; his voice sounds forced, like he’s struggling himself. “I—I… you know…”

It brings a sudden ignite of _fury_ in you. Now that he’s acknowledging it out in the open, it’s not only the heartbreak that’s been clouding your _life_ , there’s now _rage_ boiling inside you. 

How _dare_ he? How dare he take your heart and stomp on it right in front of you and not even have the grace to say sorry? Or make this any less painful for you when it’s _his_ fault. _Hisfaulthisfaulthisfault_ —

“Yeah.” Your voice is, surprisingly, steady. “Just take care of yourself, Javier.”

You see it. The way his face crumbles. You don’t know what he expected.

He says your name, hesitates, then finally makes up his mind. 

“Is it okay—fuck never mind.” He waves it off.

You don’t want to ask him what he was going to say—you’re too _afraid_ to, if you’re being honest. 

“I’ll always love you, Javi,” your voice trembles with tears. “But if you can’t love me back, if you can’t work with me on this… Javi I can’t let you hurt me like this anymore. It’s not _healthy_ , for either one of us.”

He watches the tears stream down your cheeks with glistening eyes of his own. It creates a stir in your chest, tying your stomach in knots, tightening your throat, knocking all the air out of your lungs; you wouldn’t wish this kind of pain on _anyone_. 

It seems like an eternity of staring at each other. Committing the other’s features to memory, remembering the good that isn’t tainted, shadowed by the agonizing reality he’s created for himself, bled onto you by your own free will. 

Silently he gathers the rest of his clothes scattered across your room. He dresses leisurely, and as angry as you are with him you’re grateful for the extra few minutes before he walks out your door for the last time. 

When he finishes fastening the last button of his shirt and slides his shoes on you can’t help it. You throw your legs over the bed, not bothering to throw your shirt on and throw yourself in his arms. 

“ _Hmph_ ,” he grunts, nearly doubling over from the unsuspected force. 

You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck. He hesitates again, but when his arms do wrap themselves around you it’s _crushing_ ; you feel the muscles in his arms bulge from how hard he’s hugging you, making it a little hard to breathe but you don’t care. You inhale his cologne, the smell of smoke on his clothes, the shampoo he uses for his hair, the different soap for his body; he’s doing the same, burying his face in your neck as well. You hold each other until it reaches a point that if you don’t let go now, you never will.

Javier’s the first to pull back. Calloused hands cup your cheeks, gives you a glimpse of the torture behind his eyes, and he leans in and presses a final kiss to your forehead; he holds it, keeping his lips still, and something hot and wet trickles down over your eyebrow. 

When he walks away he doesn’t look back. His footsteps toe quietly away, followed eventually by the soft thump of your door.

The door handle jiggles and the sob you’ve been holding back breaks free. 


End file.
